Another Life
by Bebop-angel1
Summary: Chapter three is Up!Spike has at last met two of his old comrads once again. Yet to his dismay...he learns something about too much money.
1. Chapter One

{F.Y.I, I do not own bebop or any of its characters. This story may take a while and this is one of the first stories I have ever tried to Wright so please R & R. and also please review ^^' it will help keep me going}  
  
Another Life By: Michelle Ulmer  
  
"Julia passed away." Spikes voice was now going harsh with fatigue, "Lets end it all." And with those words, Spike wrapped his fingers tighter around the hilt of Vicious' katana, the words of the silver hair man before him where hardly heard through winds blowing roughly through the ruins, yet they where still heard, with that coldness that seemed to follow Vicious like a three O' Clock shadow. "If that is your wish."  
After the words Spike took a deep breath and pushed the katana forward with great speed as Vicious did the same with his gun.  
Hastily grasping the weapon he lifted his gun at the same moment Vicious leaped forward preparing to make slash across Spike with a deadly swipe.  
In only moments it was over. Spike feeling that severe pain across his stomach as he pulled swiftly back on the trigger, watching the bullet soar through Vicious.  
To Spike, it suddenly seemed to all slow down. Vicious, his once partner falling to the ground with the horror stricken face of defeat. Landing with a thud followed by his blood that trailed from the air and onto the ground.  
For a moment, spike stood there. His mismatched eyes watching his dead partner on the ground. Once again the pain came over his body, but phased the sensation out with memories of Jet, Faye, Edward, Ein, and. Julia. Julia, she was in his arms. Her golden blonde hair flowing over him as she struggled to open those eerie ice blue eyes.  
"This is. a dream," she said with a weakness that just made Spike want to cringe.  
Trying to hold back the tears that could any time fall from his eyes he spoke back to her as he watched the cold hand of death be placed on her, "Yah, Just a bad dream"  
  
Spike's slow steps where heard against the silence that had over come all of Vicious' body guards below. Another step he took, with his arm and hand clenched over the wound that was placed on his stomach. He felt his own blood against his fingers, dripping slowly onto the ground and onto his trench coat. Another step he took then abruptly halted and just stood there. Weakness over coming his knees yet he still mustered the strength to lift his right hand. A cocky smile curved his lips as he put his fingers out as if his hand was gun. Taking a deep breath, the green haired man realesed the words, "Bang," letting his arm drift upwards with the gentleness of dieing man then. All went blank to him as he tumbled onto the steps. His trench coat drifting onto his slender figure.  
  
White, that's all he could see. The blankness, the dullness. Is this heaven? He questioned in his mind. Yet there was no answer. No sound, and once again, his vision faded.  
  
A faint beep was heard against voices. Unfamiliar voices that made him uncomfortable. This is not heaven, why would they have heart monitors in heaven? Once against faint trails of thought went through his mind as he struggled to open his mismatched orbs. A few times he blinked through the whiteness and figures began to come together. "Spike Spiegel is your name, am I correct?" A gentle voice of a woman said.  
  
"Y...Yes." Spike said with an exasperated breath as he still tried his best to put the pictures together before him. Once again the words sounded like whispers, yet for this time he felt like this indeed was a whisper. At last the pictures came together. A woman with large amber orbs and brown hair that fell below the shoulders was there greeting him. "Spike Spiegel, my name is Michelle." "Michelle?" Spike said while at the same time trying to ignore all of this. Closing his eyes as if thinking all was going to go away yet it still didn't. And once again he heard her voice, "It's been twenty years. I believe, since you raided the Red Dragons?" Spike was still weak but he did manage to release a few words, "Twenty? What the hell is going on?"  
"Spike, we put you in suspended animation for that many years to let your body heal." Michelle said with a sigh as she peered over at the monitors.  
The green haired man glanced over to where the woman was looking. A gift, and as best as he could make it said, 'SPIKE'.  
"When you gather your strength sir, there is a gift for you." Michelle turned and grasped a clip board and began to walk away, allowing Spike to keep to his own thoughts.  
He watched her drift away and began to glance about the dull room. There was one picture that grasped his attention. A picture of one rose placed in a light blue vase. That's all it was.  
His eyes open wide as he leaped forward, ignoring the stiffness that caused him slight pain. This one rose caused his memories to suddenly appear like lightening. Julia, deceased in his arms, Vicious falling onto the ground with his own blood trailing behind him. And "Bang". These memories soon followed with everyone on the Bebop.  
He took a few deep breaths and let his hand turn to the side. His mismatched orbs closing as he tried to rid himself of those few thoughts. Then he recalled what that woman had said, the gift. Glancing to the side at one of the monitors that had wires attached to him. He grasped the poorly wrapped gift in his hands. Another deep breath is what he took, trying to muster all his strength. He never thought in his life that he would have to TRY to open a gift.  
Taking his fingers, he put them under the construction paper and tore away from the card board box. And on its top it said once again 'To: Spike Spiegel, From: Jet'  
And gasping the top of the box he pulled away the lid, if that was what you would call it and witnessed two gems inside. A container of cigarettes and his old oil lighter.  
Grabbing them swiftly he tossed the box onto the ground and in the same few seconds he lit the stick of nicotine and place it to his lips. He inhaled the smoke, and then coughed. He coughed! What the hell was going on with this? He thought with rage. Before, smoke felt good, eased him from the harshness of reality. Now it felt like needles striking at his lungs.  
Spitting the cigarette out he sighed, watching if fall onto the ground. The slight amount of smoke drifting form its end and into the air gently.  
"Damnit." he cursed as he turned his gaze to the door which was now opening slowly.  
"Mr. Spiegel? I got a fresh change of.cloths. What is that smell in the air, it smells like smoke?" It was another unfamiliar voice, and it was another woman. A nurse to his eyes. A bit pudgy but had the kindest eyes he ever had seen on a woman, actually, this woman remained him a lot of Annie. And he watched her eyes drift to the ground onto the cigarette butt.  
"Oh, no, no, no! Mr. Spiegel, no cigarette's while you are recovering. "She stepped upon the cigarette and put it out, then swiftly making her way over and grasping Spike's presents from his hands.  
"Wait! " He said as he raised his hands yet it was futile for the nurse was already out of the room, carrying his precious cigarettes and lighter away from him.  
A disgusted look was upon his face as he let his hand fall down to his side. Glancing to a counter near the door he noticed clothing. The blue shoes, the cobalt toned suite, the banana yellow work shirt and tie. 


	2. Chapter Two

Another Life Chapter 2 By: Michelle Ulmer  
  
The morning sun had just come through the curtained windows of Spike Spiegel's recovery room. Instantly, the reddish light fell upon Spike's eyelids, causing him to squint, yet he never opened the mismatched orbs. It was too early for him; any time of daylight was too early for him. Always sleeping in as late as he could and sleeping through the day as much as he could till night came and he could go to a bar if The Bebop was not drifting somewhere in space.  
Grasping the sheets that covered his body like a small child would, he pulled them along with himself as he turned to the side so the light would no longer shine into his eyes. That technique worked, for a short amount of time till the sun was just high enough to allow the whole room to be filled with its eerie glow that came through the shades.  
Opening his eyes slowly, he was greeted by the wall. For a few short moments he stared at it, letting a few thoughts go into his mind, about where he was and how he got here. Then something came to pass, how did he Get Here?!  
Leaning forward slowly, a few names came into his cranium. Jet? Could he have possibly been there as he said that one word, the one word he thought would be his last? Or perhaps Faye Valentine. Then again, though Faye seemed to be tough and only caring for herself, somehow she managed to show compassion for Spike in family sense. Either or, it had to be one of them.  
Lifting his palm to his forehead and soon letting his curled fingers slide to his eyes. He began to rub them slowly, yawning in the process. Letting his arms now drift onto his side and as well on the sheet, he glanced to the window. It was already eleven O'clock in the morning, while would the sun release that eerie red glow?  
Giving a curious blink the man lifted his body off the bed he first stretched. Allowing his arms to go limp as he let his upper body fall forward, touching his toes. Then lifting his body up again, he put his arms over his head and stretched his shoulder and back muscles. Each of these common stretches felt good to him, too good, as if he had never done such a thing before in his life.  
Now letting his arms fall to the side, he made his way over to the shades. Grasping them loosely in his hand he pulled them back.  
In only a second, his eyes opened wide in shock then narrowed. His eyebrows coming together into a harsh look at the window. A complete look of disgust and hatred.  
The windows where a bloody red, the red substance causing this oozing down the side of the building slowly. Glancing form below he put his gaze back forward. There where words, carefully made with a fingertip. They read easily, "You shall shed tears of Scarlet."  
"Who." Spike's expression went to questioning glance, and then back to the same stern face, "Vicious." he said slowly.  
Taking a deep breath he once again peered below, indeed he was on the first floor, possibly the only reason why his nemeses could pull off such a stunt. And with a fashion Vicious seemed to hold, there was a pail lifeless body of a person below. With there eyes rolled in the back of there head, and a nice clean slash in there throat.  
Spike heard the door open behind him, but he never took his eyes off those words. Yet form the voice, and humming that he heard, he knew it was the same woman that took away is precious cigarettes and lighter.  
Giving a curious glance, the pudgy woman came over slowly, "Spike." The green haired man heard her gasp. Soon running out of the room, to get who ever, possibly the police.  
  
Spike recalled the so thought finale battle against Vicious. Remembering how he shot him at a point where the blood would drain swiftly. So how? So how did that man with the coldest serpent like orbs survive such a blow? How?  
Those questions plagued Spike for the rest of the day. When he got he got out of the hospital garb and into his favorite suit. When he ate Lunch and when he finally checked out.  
Taking a deep breath of the outside air, a smile did creep up Spike's lips. It was good to be free again. It really was. Now though, where would he go?  
This morning he had just got a thousand woolongs form Jet put on his cash card. Spike could only suppose that Jet was feeling nice enough to at least get him off to a good start.  
Grasping a piece of notebook paper that came along with his second gift from the now fifty or so year old Jet. He peered at the address upon it.  
His eyes shifting from side to side, he peered at the jumble of letters and numbers which one would be called an address. He sighed lightly, thinking he had gotten it memorized by now. Placing back into his pocket and which was soon followed by his hands. Still, those thoughts of his enemy, Vicious plagued him, yet at the moment, he placed them to the side in the catacombs of his mind.  
  
"Damn Jet, you are acting like some fucking mystery man and its really pissing me off." Spike growled as he waited at a street corner. This whole day, he had been wandering about Crater City Mars. In hopes he would find Walnut Lane. Walnut Lane, it is such an easy name and everyone he asked about it pointed him in a completely different direction. At last he halted his search for an hour or so to take a break and eat a hotdog that he had gotten from a small corner stand.  
In front of everyone in the small line, a grin curved his lips, "Real food!"  
Just for a hot dog he seemed overjoyed. A greasy stand hotdog was far better then the over processed hospital food any day, at least that's what Spike thought.  
After scarring everyone in the line and making his way to a bench to eat. He saw it, that one sign that could possibly brighten his day even more then a stand hotdog. A street sign that read, 'Walnut Lane'.  
Taking his hotdog, he stuffed it completely in his mouth like had done once before while chasing a bounty years ago. Now standing he ran towards it as fast as his long legs could carry.  
Before him now was a fairly large park, that was almost completely out of view from trees that blocked the sign form his view awhile back.. And in this park, or so it seemed where many large houses. Mansions, and over sized houses that would cost a plethora of woolongs.  
Scrounging through his one pocket, he took out the note again and began to read it carefully. 39023 Walnut Lane, Crater City Mars.  
Spike could only gawk now. Jet, his comrade that was once in the brink of bankruptcy was now living in one of these huge ithings/i.  
"..." that's all that Spike could do for the past few moments, was gawk. Each house was very unique but never the less beautiful on the outside.  
Finally going out of the trance that kept him standing on there sidewalk like road block, he began to walk forwards though the maze of roads. The day was getting hotter, and the black top did not make it any better for such a long trek.  
And at last he reached a mail box, which on its side simply had 39023. Indeed this was the place. Lifting his gaze from the slightly shorter mail box, he peered at Jets home.  
It was large, very large. Not as large as some of the others that where laid her but still big enough to hold at least ten bedrooms and then some.  
Walking up the long drive way then down the pathway that led to the massive cherry wood front door, he returned the slip of paper back to his pocket and looked for a doorbell or something to tell of his arrival.  
Glancing over to the side of the door with his mismatched orbs he found a small box with a button, more then likely the door bell.  
Walking over slowly, he raised his hands and pressed his index finger against the plastic surface. Soon releasing it after he heard the chime of a familiar tune or simple the bell.  
Then he waited for about five minuets before pressing it once again, then that just ended up in waiting some more.  
Pushing his fingers through his bushy green hair he sighed and sat on the porch. Perhaps the old guy is not home, he thought as he grasped a cigarette and lighter.  
During his stay at the hospital, Spike had pick pocketed his prized possessions from the nurse who just the other day had swiped him from his hands in one swift swoop.  
Lighting the stick of nicotine up, he placed in his mouth and inhaled the smoke. Letting it fill his lungs until he released it with a sigh.  
  
It was about an hour that he waited there, and it was then that he heard the door open.  
  
"Mr. Spiegel? I presume, terribly sorry for you waiting there but Master Jet was completely engrossed with his work, and I was there assisting him. It was then that I noticed you waiting out here. Oh and I ask you, before you enter please put your cigarette out." The voice was that of classy butler. With silver hair that was pulled back, and held a long aristocratic, slightly upward turned nose which made Spike wonder for only a few moments that if he was the owner of the house and if Jet was the butler. Blinking once, Spike spit the cigarette out into the garden which made the butler give a light glare, or a look of disgust either or, this butler had already went against Jet's judgment in friends. Onward Spike walked into a grand room, with a large, crystal chandelier at its ceiling. Then he turned, to see a pair of large emerald green eyes peering at him from the stairway.  
  
{Oooo I just love cliffhangers ^^; anyways, thanks to all who reviewed! Oh, and I do not own bebop XD. I wish I did. Anyways, I do not know when the next chapter will be up, I was lucky enough this week that we are having so far little homework, but I don't know how that will be in the future so please be patient. And still, please review!! It will really keep me going! } 


	3. Chapter Three

{As always Bebop is not mine. So that means Spike is not mine either...but.*swiftly dashes away with Spike...*cough* anyways ^. ^, sorry for the long absence. Between school and writers block. I had trouble putting this together. And I am sorry if I disappointed you with the last one, there was so much I had to fit into one chapter with that. So without Further a due {sp? Ex.}.}  
  
Chapter Three- Answers  
  
As soon as Spike had peered at the staircase, abruptly those pair of emerald orbs where gone and he had a mass of orange and grins tangled around him.  
"Ed?..." spike said as he tried to get as much air as he could into his lungs even with this kid named Ed was wrapped around him in death hold. Yet, Edward was no longer a girl.  
The arms unwrapped themselves around spike, leaving him a brief moment to catch his breath, until those emerald eyes where once again placed at his mismatched ones.  
"So Spike, Faye was right." the woman said with a large grin as she stepped back from his face, allowing him to get a full glance at her, "You do have a cyber eye."  
As Ed stepped back, he took in all her details. He could not believe it was her, she still had the large piercing green orbs, but she really would not longer be called a carrot top. Her hair had grown out past her shoulders, and she was obviously taller, and well, bustier.  
Spike ran his fingers as best as he could through his green hair, "Uh, Ed.is that really you?" he asked in a tone of dismay.  
For a few moments Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky 4th seemed to contemplate, and then giggled, and twice she repeated, "Lunk-head" in the most childish voice she could muster. "Lunk-head, Faye-Faye moved somewhere but Jet person is upstairs!" she then ran around him like she would have those twenty or so year ago and went off somewhere in this huge mansion.  
"Mr. Spiegel, "he heard the butler say in the most aristocratic voice that one could imagine, "Mr. Jet Black is waiting to speak to you upstairs. This way please."  
The green haired man had that urge to go look around, one that anyone on the bebop could recognize as the look of, 'I am about to become a mummy'. Yet at the same time there was that urge to go and see how his comrade was doing, what he looked like in the course of twenty years. So it was a few seconds till he realized that he was all alone in the foyer and with that, his long, stick like legs carried him up the stairs, about three steps in a stride just to catch up to the quick paced butler.  
Before him was now a long corridor, an array of doors on either side, one could only guess where they led too. And at the end of this corridor, and obviously to where the butler was headed, was a large double door. Holding carvings that seemed to be made from the most professional, of professionals, if there is even such a thing.  
The butler stopped and with one hand he opened a large door, and nodded, yet still held that look of disgust to the awkward looking man with a the goofy grin. "Mr. Spiegel, you may enter"  
Spike took a deep breath, excitement, yet a dismal feeling for the worst seemed to creep through his stomach the whole time. Jet was getting old, for all Spike knew; he could be in his thoughtfully large bed, covered in a million blankets, paler then usual, and be coughing the whole time. Yet, through these dismal trails of thought, Spike also remembered Jet. He was a very masculine man, although he been through much, you could see that will to live in his aging eyes. The look for the will to live and that was something Spike himself was not known for having, even though he could be as determined as one could get at times.  
Taking a deep breath, he took a step into the room, being almost swamped with light from a large window that faced the setting sun. Lifting an arm Spike glanced about, before realizing that it would probably best to move into the slight shadows and away form the sun's glare. And waiting for a few moments he let those pesky dots disappear form his eyes that one would get after they took a passing glance at the sun or a light bulb at that matter.  
"SPIKE!" A familiar voice announced, "Damn, I can't believe it."  
The green hair man lowered his arm and peered to his right only to a see Jet dashing towards him, and just like Ed had done moments ago, he had a death grip around his somewhat frail looking body.  
And hearing spike seem to struggle to breath through the grip he had around him, he released him, allowing him to breathe once again. After a brief second, Spike put his hands in his pockets, like he normally would, and went form his almost lurched position to one more comfortable on a couch. And that is where he began to take in Jet's details, like he had done before with Edward. To his eyes, Jet did not look all that much different, accept his get up and, he had trimmed his bear back, to where it did not have those little points below the cheekbone. "Well..Uh.what have you been up to Jet?" Spike kept his eyes squarely on him, until he got finished with all his details and started to snoop about, which more then likely end in him breaking something like his normal klutzy self would. "Well Spike, you look no different. Hard to imagine its been twenty years." Jet ended with grin that curved his lips only slightly. "I have been frozen." Spike said with a grumble, now having his eyes off the far older Jet and onto the many items that where held in his bedroom. "Yes I know, "the elder man said almost mockingly, "I was just teasing.for I was the one paying for it after all the 136 million woolongs" Spike had that awe struck look in his face as he heard the price of his freezing announced outwards to him. Almost struck to the point where he almost dropped the porcelain figurine in his fingers. "How the hell did you stir up that much.How the hell did you get this much cash in the first place! Why the hell did you not let me die!!!" "It was either being paralyzed for the rest of your life or, this." Jet said as he took a seat, the smile fading and drifting into a light frown. Jet, during the few moments of silence and spike snooping about had acquired a cane which he now held in both palms, keeping his hands up while he remained in the position comfortably. And as well Spike, got that look in his eyes, a questioning look of both fright and wonder. "What do you mean?" Another few moments of silence passed until Jet gathered his thoughts into words, "The wounds you received with Vicious where indeed large, to the point where little could be done. Yet surprisingly enough when the ambulances arrived to pick up the deceased, you where still alive, your heart beating even though so little blood was left in your veins. It just shows you how resilient you are." After that comment he seemed to laugh, but this laugh seemed to get Spike even more agitated then he already was. "Cut to the chase!" Spike growled as he clenched a fist. All of this was so annoying to him. His death would have been right, the way a cowboy was supposed to die, with those finale words that made loved ones want to cry and those who did not even know him seem to freeze. "Though your heart was beating you where diagnosed dead, at least too a few, your heart and lungs where barely moving. Yet, it was only a day afterwards that all your vital systems seemed to rejuvenate. But the thing was Spike, even though you where still breathing, your muscles would be useless, they also thought you would be brain dead with the lack of oxygen but that was until you opened your eyes and peered around for the smallest of seconds. So even though you drifted into a very heavy sleep after that, the examined your body, they tested your reflexes and there was no motion, at least not in your gangly legs. So there is where the choices came up, Cryogenic freezing, or life long penalization. And I think I know which you would have preferred" Jet was right; he would rather be out and about then stuck in a wheel chair for the rest of his life and relying on other to do things for him. "So how is Faye?" spike asked as he once again began to snoop around the artifacts which where probably deemed priceless. "She is good, form what I last heard. Have a family and a few kids. Two boys and she say one reminds her to much of you, always getting into trouble. And having injuries tended."  
The man blinked, really, he was unsure if to laugh or just smile, or nothing at all. "Faye having kids. And a family. Never saw that comin'." And at last, he managed to give a slight chuckle and so did jet, who then peered out the window. Then, something came up. The window, smothered in blood, written with a saying that Vicious seemed more then pleased to say when the time was right. "So, how did you get the money.?" Spike asked in a silent tone as he peered to the side. That's when Jet stood and began to approach. There was a look in jet's eyes that mad him uncomfortable, the look that would make him one who would be untrustworthy with first glance. "The doctors also said that if you use too much energy you will first get weak.then collapse Spike." Jet still was approaching. Spike, scowled, there was something about Jet; something had changed about him during the twenty year course. "The money Jet.how did you get it?" "You know Vicious IS still alive; he went through the same process as you." Jet sighed as he turned his gaze back outside. The sun was now just under the horizon, giving off an eerie hew to the cloudless sky. "Yeah, he gave me a message.how did you know? You still have not told me how you got the money! " Spike abruptly took a step back, from experience and just plain instincts he knew what was coming. "The red Dragon Crime syndicate has been reborn, they paid me to put you in cryogenic sleep, and if I refused they would kill me. You would be surprised how much one-hundred and thirty-six million woolongs comes up too next to next to a few billion; the same goes for when they pay me to end your life." Spike growled, "All this money has gone to your head bud." He really did not know what to do. Jet was a great friend and comrade as well as someone he trusted, one of the very few he did. And now, the money had obviously gone to his head. "Sorry Bud.Jet said as he turned his head away, but at the same time pointing the gun at Spike's head. Then an all too common bam was heard, and a bullet was fired. 


End file.
